Elegy from the Eldest
My coworker asked me why I kept going to my dad's if it was so painful;
I looked at her confused, I thought I had explained it before;
'Because I am the oldest,' I said as I had many times before.
She looked at me puzzled;
That's when I finally remembered;
No one considers the oldest, every hero is either an orphan or the youngest.
'You were given everything!' my sister says;
'C'mon!' my brother yells as he uses me for a punching bag.
My mother sees no reason not to tell me every family secret, problem;
My father sees no issue when I stand between him and my siblings.
A softly chuckle as I turn to grab my well worn car keys;
My long sleeves pulling up slightly.
'Because it's what I do.' said in passing over my shoulder;
As I travel down my well worn path chosen nothing more than birth order.
On the horizon I think I see the shadows of the eldests who walked before me.
Are they closer now?
